


Wistful Memory

by SerendipitousLyss



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, fe writers zine, lyn centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousLyss/pseuds/SerendipitousLyss
Summary: In the aftermath of the catastrophe, when the dragons are defeated and the world is quiet again, Lyndis of Caelin finally gets a chance to rest.My piece for the Fire Emblem Writers' Zine on twitter!
Relationships: Hector & Lyndis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Fire Emblem Writer's Zine





	Wistful Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Now that the pdf version of the zine has gone out for the fe writers' zine, I get to post my piece! I was lucky to be able to write about Blazing Blade (or blazing sword, whatever the title is) and decided to focus my piece on Lyn, her post-game journey, and her friendship with Hector considering her unpaired ending where she returns to Sacae. I had a ton of fun writing for this zine and was glad to be given the chance to contribute as a pinch hitter! I hope you enjoy it!

In the aftermath of the catastrophe, when the dragons are defeated and the world is quiet again, Lyndis of Caelin finally gets a chance to rest.

She’s exhausted, which is to be expected after such a prolonged period of fighting. She’s covered head to toe in battle wounds that will later form into vicious scars, and every move she makes to stand up causes her entire body to protest painfully, but she is happy.

It’s been months since she’s had the chance to simply be, unbothered by what the future may hold and lightened of the weight of impending doom for her and her family. But healing takes time, and Lyn has never been the kind of woman to rest on her laurels for too long. After a day or so of lounging around waiting for her wounds to heal, she starts to feel restless, and entertains herself by wandering the grounds of castle Pharae where the remains of their army has gathered to rest and recover.

Today is one such day. She walks the veranda outside the room where she’s been staying, her gaze occasionally wandering out into the garden it borders. She does her best to take it easy so as not to aggravate her injuries, but her restlessness is hard to curb. It’s times like this when she longs for the open air and endless freedom of the plains of Sacae she calls home. She pauses to lean against the railing of the veranda, sighing loudly.

If she closes her eyes, she can almost smell the tall grass of her homeland, sprawled out endlessly and uninterrupted in front of her. She can nearly hear the far-off whinnies of horses or the bustle of a distant village, tucked neatly into the gaps between the gently sloping hills. She imagines that the breeze against her face is the same as that of the winds that blow across the plains, bringing the sweet smell of the mountains down into the valley below. The thought of it brings her a brief sense of peace, but when she opens her eyes to the same carefully manicured garden as before, she is struck by a sudden, poignant sense of longing. Frowning, she leans her chin against the cold iron rail, letting the chill of it seep into her skin.

“What are you doing out here, Lyn? You should be resting.”

Lyn lifts her head from the rail and turns her gaze to Hector, whose voice the recognizes immediately. Like her, he’s covered in bandages from head to toe, which peek out from beneath his clothing. “I could ask you the same thing,” she points out. “You’re in even worse shape than I am.” She turns her attention back to the garden, quietly inviting Hector to join her on the balcony. “I’m just feeling a bit restless, I suppose. I’ve been locked up inside for about as long as I can handle.”

Hector raises a brow at her, coming up to the railing to stand beside her. “Is that so? I’m rather enjoying the chance to rest, myself,” he chuckles. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. You’ve always seemed to have an uncanny aversion to slowing down.”

Lyn scowls sideways at Hector, but there’s little real annoyance behind the expression. “You’re one to talk. You haven’t rested a day since I first met you,” she accuses.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t guilty,” Hector replies with a shrug. He falls quiet for a moment, glancing out into the garden, then asks, “So, what will you do now?” He looks down and meets Lyn’s gaze. “Will you return to Caelin now that Eliwood is home?”

Lyn sighs softly. “For now,” she replies carefully. “My grandfather’s health has continued to decline over the last few months. I’d like to spend some time with him before… before he dies.” She averts her friend’s gaze, glancing back out into the garden with a forlorn frown.

For a moment, Hector doesn’t respond. It hasn't been all that long since Hector had learned of his own brother’s death to illness, and Lyn knows this. She knows that despite the brave face he puts on that he’s still grieving, and will be for a long while still, even if he doesn’t let another soul see it.

“You don’t seem too thrilled to be going back,” Hector points out after a few heavy seconds of silence.

Lyn shrugs her shoulders, pulling her long ponytail over one shoulder and running her fingers through it idly. “It’s not that I don’t want to go back,” she says, “it’s just that Caelin is… a weird place for me. I love my grandfather, and he’s done so much for me these last few years to make me feel like part of his family, but once he’s gone, I won’t have much of a reason to stay.”

“You won’t take over Lord Hausen’s station as the Marquess?” Hector asks, voice tinged with surprise.

Lyn doesn’t blame him for assuming such a thing. She’s the last of Hausen’s line, after all, and the rightful heir to his throne, despite the fact that a grandson would be more fitting in the eyes of the people. The thought of it makes her scowl, but that isn’t what keeps her from following through. “Oh, come on, Hector, you know me. Can you imagine? Me, the Marquess of Caelin? I may have the blood of a noble family in me, but I’m fairly far from noble.” A smirk grows on her face, bitter amusement at the prospect of being awarded a noble title for the deserving act of being born to a certain family. “I don’t have the years of training or the patience for that kind of job. I was scolded constantly for my terrible manners when I lived in the castle, and I hardly took over a fraction of my grandfather’s duties. I’m afraid I’m not cut out for the life of a noblewoman.”

Hector laughs, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “Well, some of that I can understand,” he amends. “They’re right about your manners.”

Lyn casts Hector a withering glare, narrowing her eyes at him in warning, but he only looks more pleased with himself.

“Of course, I’m hardly much better, and I was raised in it,” he continues, softening his insult just a bit with a little jab at himself. “I never cared much for that kind of thing. I can be polite if I need to, but I find that getting straight to the point delivers quicker results.”

Lyn rolls her eyes. “I’ve never heard a polite word come from your mouth. If anything, you seem more inclined to speak with your fists than with your words.”

“My point is,” Hector interrupts before Lyn can say any more, “that you don't give yourself enough credit. You can handle yourself better than most women, and you aren’t afraid to speak your mind. In the end, I think that’s more important than politeness or manners.”

“Those things have nothing to do with being a woman or not,” Lyn reminds him in a slightly scolding tone. “In any case, I’ll have some time to figure things out once I’m back in Caelin. I haven’t even spoken with my grandfather about it yet.” She pauses, straightening up from where she’s leaning against the metal rail. “Will you return to Ostia soon?” she asks, her voice quieting somewhat as she watches carefully for Hector’s response.

True to form, Hector shows no obvious response to the mention of his country, though the weight of the question hangs poignantly in the air. He offers Lyn a wry smile. "Yes. I have... quite a bit to take care of, now that I'll be ascending the throne as the Marquess. I imagine I'll be quite busy once I arrive," he sighs. Lyn maintains eye contact with him even as he turns away from her, hiding part of his face from her line of sight.

If he and Lyn were not such good friends, she likely would not have noticed the little sliver of sadness in Hector's expression. It's only been a handful of days since he'd learned of his elder brother's death, not nearly enough time to properly mourn and come to terms with the loss of his last remaining family, and yet his duties as Ostia’s only remaining heir cannot go untended. He won’t be able to rest for long.

She understands his pain so much that it hurts. She knows vividly what it's like to be the last remaining member of her family, forced into isolation with no one left to turn to for help. It's only been a year since she'd reunited with her grandfather, and even then, their relationship is very different from the one she'd shared with her parents, her people. The same intimacy does not exist between herself and Lord Hausen that had existed between herself and the other members of the Lorca tribe, now scattered across the plains. Even now, she feels a different type of loneliness.

"It looks like all three of us are going to be quite busy, once all of this is finally over," she sighs, gazing quietly out into the garden.

Hector nods his head in agreement. "We'll need to support each other as young lords of Lycia," he agrees. "I'll be counting on you and Eliwood for support going forward, and I expect you to do the same."

Lyn raises a brow at Hector. Her eyes flick back and forth between his as he meets her gaze. Surely she couldn't burden him with her own troubles like that! He would be busy enough, learning to run an entire territory by himself. Like her, he has no family to fall back on. Eliwood, at least, has his mother to lean on should things become hard for him to handle. Hector, however, doesn't have that kind of familial support, nor does he have the kind of practice he needs to properly take on the title of Marquess. There’s only so much a knight like Oswin can do, as much as Hector will need to lean on him for support in this new role.

She wants to speak up, to say that she can't possible accept such an offer, but Hector's expression is genuine and determined. "Okay," she relents after a moment, choosing to surrender her pride rather than argue with her friend. She knows that she's likely to lose if she tries, anyway; Hector can be surprisingly stubborn when he wants to be. "If I need your help, I'll send a messenger, but I expect you to do the same to me, should you need my aid. I'll come as quickly as I can."

And Hector smiles at her, his posture relaxing some. "Good," he replies simply.

The two of them spend several minutes standing by the veranda railing, watching the birds in the garden flock and listening to the distant sounds of palace chatter, until the sun begins to set on the horizon and the evening chill chases them back inside for dinner.

\---

As planned, Lyn returns home to Caelin as soon as she is given permission to ride. Her injuries still sting, and she's unable to ride her horse at full speed for fear of exacerbating her wounds, but still, she is granted permission to leave after a tearful goodbye to Eliwood and Hector and a promise to send letters and keep them updated on Lord Hausen's condition.

She takes a slow but steady pace back to castle Caelin, whereupon she is immediately thrust back into the menial, emotionally exhausting work of being the stand-in Marquess. Despite his worsening illness, Hausen insists on continuing to lead his own country, determined not to put the full weight of leadership on his inexperienced granddaughter's shoulders. Lyn is grateful, even if it pains her to see him working so hard in his condition, and she does everything in her power to loosen his load so that he can focus on resting.

Many of the castle staff hold out hope for Hausen's recovery, but Lyn knows better than to pray for a miracle when it's clear that his condition isn't curable. He loses strength in his limbs as the amount of time he spends bedridden increases, and Lyn can see from the way his bones begin to protrude through his skin that he's losing weight as well. Every time she notices another hint of his illness slowly consuming him, a stab of fear and sadness hits her, and helplessness overpowers her rationality that she'd known this is coming for a long time. Occasionally, she finds herself wondering if this is how Hector must have felt to see his brother waste away before his eyes, and to have no power to take away his suffering or cure his ailments. It is a constant weight on her heart to see her only remaining family suffering so terribly.

It's not all bad, though. She is incredibly thankful for the remaining days she gets to spend with her grandfather, even if she knows it will not last forever. She spends as much time as she can with him, learning his wisdom, absorbing as many stories about his side of her family as she can before his sickness overtakes him for good. He tells her stories of her mother with a smile and a cheerful laugh, content and accepting of his shortened life and taking full advantage of what time he has left.

When he finally does pass, he's too weak and wilted to even leave his bed, and a majority of his duties have been passed to Lyn. She's exhausted from the day-and-night commitment that running Caelin takes, but she is content. She takes a few days to grieve, and to quietly thank the Gods for the time she was allowed to spend with him, and then she gets to work reorganizing his estate and preparing his country for new leadership, a new way of life. Once she is confident that everything is in order, not a piece of gold put out of place, she sits down at her desk and pens a letter to the Marquess of Ostia.

\---

“So, let me just get this straight,” Hector sighs, leaning his elbow against the table and scrubbing his face briefly with one hand, exasperated.

Lyn nods her head, quietly urging him to continue. She sits opposite him in her meeting room, her hands clasped together atop the table. He’d agreed to come almost as soon as he’s received her letter requesting an audience with him, but by the look on his face now, Lyn can tell he’s starting to regret it. “Go on,” she urges.

Hector is quiet for another few seconds before meeting Lyn’s gaze, expression hardening into a determined but concerned frown. “You’re abdicating?” he says, disbelief evident in every word. “You’ve only just become the ruling Marquess. An abdication now is going to throw the entire territory into a frenzy trying to figure out what happened. And that’s not the worst of it!” His eyes drop down to the letter unfolded in front of him, penned in Lyn’s own handwriting, and he scans a few lines of it, as though double-checking that his eyes had not deceived him. “You mean to turn over the entire territory to Ostia? The land, the army, everything? What on earth prompted you to propose such a thing? We’ve been friends for a long time now, Lyn, but this is crazy, even for you.”

Lyn frowns. “I resent that,” she retorts, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. “I’m not doing this on a whim, Hector, you know me better than that. I’ve thought this out very carefully.” The confidence in her expression fades some, a tinge of regret and uneasiness replacing it. “It’s been a few months now since my grandfather’s death. I’ve done what I can to keep his country afloat, but I’m not built to lead like this. I don’t have the training or the innate diplomatic knowledge that it takes to keep Caelin going strong, not the way you or Eliwood do.” She sighs softly, glancing away for a moment. “The truth is, I’m tired. Exhausted, really. It takes everything I have just to maintain Caelin where it’s at, but I can’t go on like this forever. I’m not like you, Hector, I can’t keep going through sheer force of will, not for this.”

Hector takes a long, deep breath. Lyn’s not sure she’s ever seen him think so hard in her life. His brow is furrowed so deeply that lines form between them. He’s still a young man, but she can see that the responsibility of taking over Ostia from his brother has aged him, at least mentally. “Even so, don’t you think this is a little extreme?” he reasons. “Have you spoken to your advisors about this? Do your people know? Do you have someone who can replace you, even if Ostia does annex Caelin?”

“I’ve already made the arrangements,” Lyn assures smoothly, sitting up in her seat once more. “I have a trusted advisor who is prepared to take over Caelin’s internal matters, and my close advisors are all aware of my intentions. They guided me through the process and helped me to make preparations for this transition. The people will understand.”

Hector shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re insane. Do you know that? I can’t believe you’d even propose this.”

Lyn can’t help the amused smile that comes to her face. “I know,” she replies, a teasing edge to her voice as she speaks, “but I promise you, I didn’t make this choice on a whim. I put a lot of thought into it, and I believe that this is the best outcome for everyone involved. Including you.” She reaches across the table and lays her hand over his as a small form of comfort. “I’d like to trust you with this, if you’ll let me,” she says, voice softening a bit. “It’s your call, of course, and I’d never force you to take on anything you can’t handle. It’s just a proposal.”

“Where do you fit into all of this?” Hector asks, gesturing to the letter in concern. “I mean, where will you go if I do agree to this, and Ostia annexes Caelin?”

Lyn simply smiles at him, a glint of excitement in her eye. “Back home,” she replies simply, affection clear in her voice.

Hector blinks, quiet for just a moment, then breathes out a wispy laugh, raising his free hand to his face and running his fingers briefly through his hair as a way to let out some of his nervous energy. “Sacae. I should have guessed,” he chuckles, but there’s no malice in his voice. He nods his head in understanding, taking a moment to scan through the contents of the letter once more. The confusion in his expression dissipates, leaving only a thoughtful, critical eye behind as he carefully goes over the contents of her letter. “Okay,” he says, finally. “I’ll give it a try, but I need you to be here for the next few months while we make this transition.”

Lyn nods her agreement. “Of course. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed,” she promises with a small, soft smile, but in her mind, she’s already galloping back to the plains of Sacae, free.

\---

In the end, it takes nearly eight months for the two territories to successfully merge. To Lyn’s surprise, the process goes quite smoothly. The people of Caelin have more faith in her abilities than she realizes, and more respect for Hector than she’d anticipated. With their blessing, Lyn steps down and a governor takes over her position under Hector’s watchful eye. It’s a weight off her chest to know that she can leave Caelin and not worry about it falling apart after she goes.

Lyn doesn’t linger much longer once the hard part is over. With Hector’s approval, she says her goodbyes and saddles up her horse, eager to return to the land where she was raised.

She rides long, and she rides fast, her heart soaring with every beat of the horse’s hooves that brings her closer to the place she’s been missing for so long. It takes her several days’ ride to reach even the edges of the plains, but she appreciates every minute of the wind in her hair and the steady thump of hoofbeats beneath her. When she spots the familiar hills that separate Lycia from Sacae, she nearly cries, a broad smile breaking out across her face. When the smell of the grass reaches her nose this time, it’s real, not a memory, and she urges her horse on ever faster the closer and closer she gets.

Cresting the top of the hill, she finally pulls back on the reins to give her horse time to rest, and she stares. The plains look just as vast and inviting as she remembers them, tall grass swaying and shifting likes the waves of the sea she’d once visited as a child. The brisk breeze whips her hair away from her face, and she closes her eyes against it, taking a deep breath of the clean, crisp air. “Finally, I’m home,” she murmurs to herself, giving her mount an affectionate pat on the side of his neck.

She doesn’t know what awaits her upon her return to the plains. Her tribe is long gone, disbanded and scattered to the far reaches of Sacae, but she remains, carrying with her their memories and their traditions. Perhaps, someday, she could even rebuild the tribe that she had once called her family.

The thought fills her with hope, and with her resolution set, she gathers up the reins in her hands once more. “Come on, boy, let’s go home,” she murmurs, and rides down the hill to the place she’s always prayed to return to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to see more of my work or have a question for me, you can find me on tumblr @serendipitouslyss or on twitter @serenlyss.


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